


Gone Again

by whosCas (EyeofOrion)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, I'm Sorry, blood cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyeofOrion/pseuds/whosCas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Dean is cured of being a demon, but it has an effect that nobody anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone Again

_“You said she fell from a building. That girl’s body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it – that girl is going to die.”_

Sam stopped short as Bobby’s words echoed back to him after years. That was different – it was _different_ – of course it was different. Dean wasn’t possessed; the demon _couldn’t_ be exorcised from him. It _was_ him. It was _different_.

But he could hardly think about it now, over the noise. Cas’s arms pinning his own to his sides, Dean writhed as the jet-black eyes turned painfully back to green. His body twitched fitfully, and Sam could see the steam coming off him, knuckles white as his hands clawed ineffectually at the air. It took all Cas’s might, despite his angelic strength, to hold him, and he was _roaring_ , a wild animal, lungs full of fire and teeth bared.

Sam wanted to run; wanted to fight; wanted to tear Cas’s arms away and let Dean go. But he could do nothing but stand and stare while the steam was rising and Dean was roaring, Dean was roaring, Dean was _roaring_ –

– and then, he wasn’t. Slowly, fitfully, Dean’s arms stilled and his voice faltered. The foreign eyes were Dean’s eyes again, and the scream was a human scream, a human pain.

_…body is broken…_

But it was wrong. Too quickly, the eyes dulled, and they were distant, as if the light in them were retreating. Too quickly, the scream tailed out, became a groan. Cas heard it too, felt his body go limp. He caught Dean before he toppled, held him upright. Dean’s arms found Cas’s shoulders, held on, but his knees soon gave way.

“Dean!” Sam leapt towards him as Cas propped him up, also yelping his name.

_The only thing keeping him alive is that demon inside._

“Sammy –”

There was so much, so much to say. Maybe he’d remember what he did as a demon. Maybe he’d want to apologise – or maybe not. But it couldn’t end like this.

Dean’s next words never made it past his lips; they were caught in the trickle of blood that did. His hand, ghostly in its uncertain movement, reached for the front of his shirt, and came away as red as the material. Sam ripped it open, scattering little red buttons and little red drops, and there it was. A gaping, oozing hole barely two fingers’ width in diameter, deep enough to make Sam’s stomach flip over and the bile rise in his throat; and through it – daylight.

_…going to die._

They hadn’t seen this coming.

The next minutes were full of fumbled words, yelled, meaningless. The voice on the line was cool and calm and Sam was anything but; Cas’s controlled demeanour was betrayed by his clammy palms, the twitch of his lip, the way his eyelashes stuck together and he brushed at them with a fist like a child. Dean was on the floor, Dean was in Sam’s arms, Dean was in the backseat of the Impala – just like last time. Like a rewind; as if nothing had happened between the warehouse and now. Nothing that mattered.

It could have worked out, right? If Dean had stayed a demon, they could have worked things out. They always did. And they would have found a way to restore Cas’s Grace. They’d have been fine, right? Of course they would –

Sam barely had the headspace left to notice, but Cas’s face was growing paler and paler, the life draining out of him bit by bit. It was too much. He couldn’t afford the Grace he’d used, and there was no getting it back. If Dean didn’t – if this didn’t work out, it would be wasted. They were both bleeding out, one hot blood and one cool Grace, and even with Cas’s hand pressed to Dean’s chest, wrapped in the trenchcoat that was never not going to be stained with Dean’s blood, there was no way to stem the flow.

By the time they reached the hospital, Dean was gone.

Cas didn’t try to speak for the journey back to the bunker. He kept his hand on Dean’s cooling chest, his coat pulled all the way up to Dean’s neck like a comforter, as if he were just sleeping. Just sleeping. Sam tried, once, but there were no words for this. There never had been, the first time around or the second or the third – there were no words whole enough, _huge_ enough for this. He couldn’t have got them out, even if there had been.

Dean was in his arms again, and then on his bed. Rewind, remember. All over again. Like the same nightmare night after night. So he did what he’d done last time, and he drank until he couldn’t feel his eyes burning anymore and maybe he would pass out and maybe he would wake up and really what did it matter?

It was days later how many days? A few days couldn’t be more than a few days surely and he hadn’t moved Dean he’d move him soon move him soon don’t think about the _smell_ if he didn’t move him soon. Maybe Cas would move him but what had happened when Cas tried to move him what had he said? He’d shouted maybe. Maybe shouted at Cas maybe that wasn’t fair because Cas had done something what had Cas done? Gone somewhere said something. Said something. Said something _dig_. He went to dig. A hole. In the ground. For Dean. _Again_. Move him soon.

It was several days after Dean went, and Sam’s head was clearer. Truth was he’d run out of things to cloud it, and the pain had incapacitated him pretty well until he’d come out of the other side. Now he just… existed. He hated to even admit it.

Cas followed Dean a few days after that. He was like a cat, maybe, knowing like that. They leave when they know they’re going to die, to find the place where they wanted to be when it happened. Sam had read that once. Dogs did it too, maybe. Not that it mattered.

He found them in Dean’s room, Dean just like he left him and Cas curled next to him, hand on his chest again, just sleeping. Just sleeping.

Maybe he’d try summoning Crowley again. Rewind, again. Maybe he’d move them. One hole was already dug; perhaps he could manage another – or perhaps Cas had already thought of that. Or maybe, Sam thought, maybe, after all this time, _finally_ , he’d follow too. He could just stay, and wait for the dark.

He stood for a long moment in the doorway and breathed the cold still air, and wished he hadn’t. Whatever happened now, he thought, it didn’t really matter. There was no more, really. This, here, was where it finished. The road’s end.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from “[Gone Again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pq2IvSFbMyQ)” - Patti Smith; alternatively “[Gone Again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vwhWOq4X0I)” - Thomas Newman


End file.
